Blood Roses for the Devil's Queen
by Anastasia Dreams
Summary: With one glimpse of Heaven's secret weapon, Klaus is willing to risk it all, even holy war, to have her by his side. Abducted by the Prince of Darkness, Caroline finds the lines between good and evil blurred as she is drawn into a plot to overthrow the King of Hell. Klaroline/AU
1. Chapter 1

Just in case someone is offended - no insult to the Christian faith is intended with this story.

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Vibrations rippled through the air, tearing the atmosphere asunder so the darkness could seep in. It entered the bedroom, smoky trails that slid and slithered over her flesh, surrounding her in black silk. Her pulse quickened, fear settling in her lungs until she gasped for breath.

He was coming.

The clock on the wall ticked down the seconds, each click a stark reminder of how fast time passed and how little was left for her. A miscalculation somewhere along the way, she should have been long gone by now.

Her focus returned to her task and her feet flew over the plush carpet towards the dying woman. Approaching the grand canopied bed, piled high with exotic colored blankets, she froze in horror.

There was no body. No soul to save. Only a single blood rose on the pillow.

"Caroline."

She turned at the whisper, innocence ensnared by evil - fly to the spider, she was trapped in his web at last.

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One week earlier

Bleach, antiseptic and decay suckled at the fresh oxygen in the exam room at Mercy Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. The noxious mixture stung Robert Jameson's nostrils and throat, bringing tears to his sunken cheeks. He recognized the smell. Remembered it well from when his mother's body rotted from the inside out.

Death. It resided in this room.

He tried to flee, thrashing his body from side to side, trying to escape the tentacles of the flashing and beeping machines bound to his flesh. For his efforts he received a flicker of a finger, a tensing of his wrist. Excruciating pain racked his thin frame and a sound he didn't recognize creaked from his throat. He ached bone deep, every limb pulled so tight that with every breath that trickled from his chest, it seemed ligaments severed and muscles splintered.

A nurse, bespectacled with stringy hair, her features impassive, approached him. "It won't be long now."

Robert Jameson argued, told her it wasn't true and to get another doctor in here. Did she know who he was? He could buy this whole hospital three times over, could even have her fired from her job for these lies.

Unable to hear his curses the nurse turned a key, punched some buttons on one of the monstrous machines and he started to float.

"He's not suffering is he?"

"Of course not, mother. The doctors and nurses know what they're doing."

Looking to his left, he saw them at last. His wife, openly weeping into her hands while their son held her. Yes, his son, John. The vulture he disowned years ago stared back at him, a look of triumph in his eyes. Rage erupted in Robert, battling back the effects of the drugs and some of the haze dissipated.

Then he saw her.

Golden. Glowing with light. The most beautiful thing he ever encountered. Dressed in a white gown, a waterfall of sunshine colored hair flowing over her shoulders, she looked right at him with brilliant blue eyes. He waited for the nurse, his wife or even his son to greet her. Only, they took no notice. Blind. The fools were blind. How could they not see the woman who glided towards him with the elegant grace of a ballerina?

Caroline approached the dying man, her heart softening with pity at what remained of the once mighty businessman. Already a corpse, his skin was waxy and grey, the whites of his eyes bloodshot and the muscles in his body ropey and strained from convulsions. Little remained of the imposing man, once a force to be reckoned with.

Robert Jameson, by sheer will power alone, dragged himself out of poverty to amass a fortune. Blackmailing those in power, cooking up crooked gambling schemes and utilizing mob connections he managed to climb the ladder rung by rung. Once at the top he bought respectability, landed a high society wife and had a son. A son that would ultimately follow in his father's footsteps, tarnishing the reputation Robert Jameson worked so hard to attain. Now in death, his wife would gift his prodigal son his empire.

"Are…are you an angel?"

Caroline heard his thought buzzing through his mind and she nodded.

"You can read my mind?"

"Yes."

His brain electrified, the neurons and receptors swarming to comprehend this reality. "I'm not ready to go yet. I have work to do."

"Your work is over, Robert. Now it's time for your reckoning."

"Didn't you hear me? I'm not done yet."

Caroline sighed. His type never understood until they saw the truth laid bare for them. Laying her hand on his chest, she closed her eyes and cleared her head, focusing all of her energy on him. She pictured the empty husk of his body, deepening her view until she could see bones, blood flowing through veins and at last right into the heart where the soul lay.

She plucked it out, opening her eyes to see it hovering over his chest. Orb like in shape and small enough to fit in her palm, it didn't have a single patch of white. Sooty black, slick and oily without even a splatter of grey, it spoke of a life of sin and misdeed. Caroline read every one of them, searching for something between the lines, something hidden that would redeem him and send him home. Even with such a dark taint, once the soul was white and pristine and she dug deeper into the muck and grime for a sign. She didn't want to lose him to Hell.

"Is that me? My life?" He didn't wait for her to answer, he already knew. "Have you come to take me to heaven?"

If only she could.

Guessing his fate, his face crumpled, more tears leaking from his eyes. The voice in his head, it whispered of regret and sorrow. For the first time in decades Robert knew humility. His entire life exploded into thoughts that bucked and jostled against each other in the whirlwind of his mind and Caroline caught a glimpse of a child. A child, before the loss of innocence, one that yearned for a parent's love and care. Raised by a drug addicted mother always looking for another high and a father that spent most of his time in and out of prison this young soul sought refuge once in prayer. A prayer of selflessness, offering to give up of himself anything necessary to have his parents whole.

It would have to be enough.

Robert's breath gurgled in his throat, the death rattle starting in his chest leaving Caroline with little precious time. A devil would be here soon to collect his soul.

Words of prayer floated to her ear and upwards to heaven, an old request for a blessing he must have learned long ago.

"Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I shall die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take."

Caroline cupped the soul in her hands. Reaching out to heaven, she tapped into the light she carried, the gift she was blessed with. The soul pulsed and shuddered, the blackness peeling away to reveal blinding white underneath and the hospital room exploded with the bright rays of a thousand suns.

"So beautiful," Robert murmured, the effort causing blood and spittle to gather in the corners of his mouth. His wife rushed to his bedside, hoping to catch his last words. Only it was too late. With a smile of wonder on his face, his heart ceased to beat.

Stepping away from the bed, Caroline held the soul fast. It belonged to her now. At least until she brought it to heaven where it would know peace and happiness before being reborn. Robert Jameson would have another chance at life, a chance to choose another path. More than pleased at her days work, Caroline itched to dance, to lift her feet in joy to music. Elijah would be so happy when she brought the news of this success. Not only was this soul coming home, it was one written off as a loss long ago. A win against the forces of evil, she had proven herself and her place among the angels once more.

Caroline shook out her wings that resided magically within her. They arched high and white in the room, almost touching the ceiling. About to flick them and return to heaven, she caught a flash of reflected light. A quick search found the source. One of the more luxurious hospital residences, this one came outfitted with a dresser for clothes and above it a mirror. Confronted by the looking glass, she tried not to look. For it was a vanity not allowed in Heaven. Oh, but she craved it, longed to see her image. Another example of her inability to measure up to the Angelic standards set forth by her peers.

Burying her guilt at her small sin, she took a peak, startled to find herself looking back at her. At first she merely smiled at her reflection, then growing bolder she waggled her eyebrows and then with a giggle she stuck out her tongue. It was all so silly, but it fascinated her.

Her fun ended with a distant roar. Vibrations sent small shocks of energy prickling over her skin. A devil was entering the atmosphere, coming for the soul. She had yet to ever meet one of Hell's spawn and she had no wish to do so today. With a flutter of her wings she flew straight out of the hospital room, up to the sky and back to heaven.

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"What do you mean, you were too late?" Klaus threw the crystal goblet he drank from moments ago into the fireplace. Glass shattered, red and orange flames leapt, blackening and crackling. Shadows crept against the wood paneled walls of his study, servants and courtiers who shivered and scattered to the corners.

"Out! Everyone out!" Long skirts swished, heels clicked and leather soles shuffled on the marble floors. "Except you, brother."

Finn heaved a sigh.

Klaus waited until the heavy, gold doors of his study slammed shut before turning around to face his brother. He couldn't afford any witnesses to the conversation about to take place.

"I'm sorry. The soul was taken," Finn apologized, black smoke from his travels still curling of the light blue tunic and brown cape he wore.

"Another one stolen?" Rage billowed inside Klaus, hazing his vision and he fisted his hands to keep from strangling his brother. Finn might be older by several years, but he was no match for Klaus. Something proven many times in combat with swords and fists. "How could you let it happen again?"

Finn froze at Klaus's fury.

"Do you have any idea what will happen if Mikael finds out that souls marked for us have managed to slip through our grasp? He will send minions to investigate and if they find even a hint of our plot, he will not hesitate to destroy us. And where would that leave Sage?"

His brother started at the name of his beloved, a wild look of distress in his eyes. "Forgive me. I swear I will get the next one."

"Your promises are empty. This is what — the 23rd soul lost to heaven? And this one was marked for us. It should have been easy."

"It isn't my fault."

"Not your fault?" Klaus threw back at him. "All you have to do is collect them."

"I can't collect them if they are purified," Finn argued, his tone bordering defiant. "Only the angels can."

Klaus stalked towards the cabinet that held his collection of brimstone wine. "I know that." He needed a drink, something to dull the rage that still rumbled in him.

Pouring another crystal goblet full of the fiery liquid, he swallowed it with one gulp. It burned, scorched a path down his throat, allowing him a moments respite from his anger. Pouring his goblet full again he repeated the action to fill another glass, carrying it to Finn.

"But how are they doing it?" Offering his brother the drink as a peace offering, Klaus continued, "The souls they are coming after are corrupted beyond repair."

"It is an angel responsible, I am sure of it." Finn took a swallow of the wine, eyeing Klaus warily over the top of his goblet. "I can feel them…the warmth and light they leave behind. It is like nothing else I have ever experienced."

Klaus sipped at his drink, savoring the burning taste rolling over his tongue before speaking, "This new weapon of theirs, we have to stop it."

"But how? They always manage to get to the soul before me."

"I sense Elijah's hand in this. It would give him great pleasure to thwart and make a fool of Mikael with every soul he steals. And, I imagine it appeals to his sense of gentlemanly honor that everyone be given a fair chance at redemption," Klaus scoffed.

"That does sound like him."

"You know where to find him, don't you?"

Finn choked on the swallow of brimstone wine he just took.

Klaus shrewdly observed the color heighten in his brother's face until even his ears were tipped pink.

Hesitating to answer, Finn walked to the long, carved banquet table, in the center of the room. He set his goblet down amongst the china, silver and linens. "It has been a long time since I have spoken with him. I am not sure he is even in the same place anymore."

"I doubt that. Elijah has always been habitual in his choices. Almost predictable."

"Like I said, I haven't visited him in a while. Not since she —"

"Yes, I know, " Klaus interrupted with annoyance. Of course, it was Sage that brought the two brothers together, even temporarily. It bordered on ridiculous, scandalous even. Finn's love and devotion to that woman was a source of embarrassment to them all. The Original Devils, the ruling family of Hell didn't love, they took what they pleased, consuming it until sated, moving on to the next.

"Did you really think Elijah could or would help you?" Klaus demanded.

"I had hoped…"

"Hoped, what? That he and an angelic army would storm the gates of Hell, all to force Mikael to return Sage to you?"

Finn stared at him, a mulish cast to his face and Klaus suppressed a laugh. That is exactly what his brother thought. "You wouldn't be in this position if you would get over this obsession of yours. No lower caste demon spawn is worthy of such trouble."

"You don't get it. What I feel for Sage isn't obsession, it is love. I love her and I always will."

This time Klaus couldn't contain his laughter. Mocking and harsh, it brought a scowl to Finn's mouth.

"Don't confuse lust with love. What you feel for Sage is between the woman's shapely legs."

"Speak of her that way again and swear I will —."

Klaus prowled towards his brother, his brimstone wine sloshing in his goblet, but never spilling over the side. "You will what? I am your only friend and ally here. You need me if you ever hope to see her again."

Finn didn't back down at his approach. To Klaus's surprise he looked quite ready to attack him. His brother vibrated tension, a mechanical toy wound too tight and ready to burst if released. For a split second, Klaus considered what he would do if his brother actually attacked him, how he would make him pay, but by the time he listed off the third punishment, Finn was taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"And you need me to destroy our father."

The words spoken so softly, had more power than if shouted from the gates of Hell. By sheer force of will, Klaus calmed the rising tides of anger ever present at the use of Mikael's familial title. "Don't call him that."

"Why?" Finn retorted, his courage for once not fleeting. "Is it the reality of the fratricide we intend or your hurt feelings that father favors everyone but you that bothers you so much?"

The truth resonated deep within, battering against the iron walls he erected around his heart long ago. "Mikael doesn't deserve to rule," Klaus spat.

"And you do?"

"Who better than I?"

They were having this conversation at last. Throwing down the gauntlet, Klaus glared at Finn until his brother withered under his gaze.

"You will return Sage to me?"

Klaus shook his head with disgust at Finn's folly. If he had his way he would have the woman exiled to earth, forcing his brother to slake his desire with the other females of Hell until he no longer remembered Sage existed. Whatever Finn felt for this woman weakened him, turned him into a liability and Klaus couldn't afford that.

"Sage will be yours," Klaus agreed.

"Swear it." Finn reached for the small dagger he always carried at his side. "A blood oath. Once Mikael is defeated you will set her free."

"You won't take my word for it?"

Finn stared directly at Klaus, unsheathing his dagger. "I would be a fool to."

"All of this for a woman? What happened to you?"

"I found happiness." Finn grimaced, breath hissing from between his lips as he sliced into his palm. Blood drops spattered one by one to the floor. "You should try and find yours."

"I will be happy the day Mikael kneels before my throne."

His brother shoved the dagger at Klaus. "Do it."

Klaus set his drink down on the table and reluctantly took the blade. Made of demon bone and steel forged in Hell's fires it carried with it a magic even he couldn't manipulate. This was a new side to Finn he had never seen before or ever expected. His newfound glimmer of respect towards his older brother caught him off guard.

"If that is what will put your mind at ease." Without the slightest reaction, Klaus elegantly cut into his own palm. Ruby red blood bubbled up from the wound, undulating its way down his hand and wrist.

"It is." Finn clasped their hands together, intermingling their blood, smearing it over their palms in a sacred, magical act. "Promise Sage to me."

Sneering slightly, Klaus inwardly ranted and raved at his brother's folly. Ultimately, he had no choice. If he was ever to have a chance at overthrowing Mikael he needed Finn at his side. "Fine. Sage will be yours"

Rays of relief radiated Finn's face. The lines of worry that seemed permanently carved around his eyes, smoothed. "Thank you."

Klaus yanked his hand from Finn's grasp. Already the cut in his skin was healing, the flesh stitching itself together. Soon his palm would be completely healed without even a scar to show for this ridiculous display. He picked up a linen table napkin from the banquet table, already laid out in readiness for the dinner meal.

"I need you to falsify the records again. There can be no written recording of this latest soul incident." With a flourish Klaus wiped away the blood from his hand as he walked towards the fireplace. He tossed the fabric into the fire. The flames roared and crackled, devouring the magical evidence of the oath. One could never be too careful and Klaus wasn't about to be betrayed by his own blood.

"I will do my best. It is harder now than it used to be." Finn joined Klaus, throwing his own blood stained napkin to the flames. "Thoth is always watching…I wonder if he has suspicions."

"Make them go away."

"How exactly would you like me to do that?"

"Figure it out," Klaus snapped. "That is your job."

When his brother didn't reply, Klaus turned sharply to face him. "Don't lose your courage now. There is Sage to think of, remember."

"So you want me to kill him?"

"If it comes to that, yes." Klaus stared hard at Finn, wondering not for the first time how far his brother would go for his love. Did that extend to murdering Hell's ancient archivist? "I would prefer, however, that you attempt to feel him out. Find out where his loyalties lay in regard to Mikael's newest scheme. Thoth would be more beneficial as an asset rather than a corpse."

"And what are you going to do while I risk my neck with Thoth?"

"I shall do what you haven't been able to. Figure out who is stealing our souls and put a very painful end to it."

Finn blanched and Klaus knew his brother remembered exactly how much he excelled at the art of torture. Strangely enough, he had Mikael to thank for that. The King of Hell always found sport in seeing how much pain Klaus could take.

"I am going to need to know where you met Elijah" Klaus laid a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder, a physical reinforcement giving Finn no choice in his betrayal. Maybe this way he wouldn't wallow in it later on.

Finn nodded slowly, accepting his reality. "Switzerland. There is a small cottage there that I believe he frequents."

"Switzerland?" Klaus couldn't help it, he released his brother's shoulder and threw his head back and laughed. The uproarious sound brought a twinge of a smile to Finn's face. "That is perfect. How like Elijah to choose neutral ground that by historic international standards actually is neutral ground. He must still be enamored with humans."

"I believe so."

"Perfect." Klaus smirked at this bit of information. It gave him excellent blackmail material to get exactly what he needed from his angelic brother. "Where did you lose the Robert Jameson soul?"

"Mercy Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee."

"Then that is where I am going."

"What do you hope to find?" Finn asked, his brows arching with surprise. "The soul is gone."

"Evidence."

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Arriving at Robert Jameson's hospital room, Klaus snapped his black, feathered wings back inside himself. His lip curled with annoyance at finding the pious and kind widow, Heather Jameson sobbing in her son's arms. Tiny and thin, with fading blonde hair knotted on her head, she could barely hold herself upright. Involved for years with her church, active with charity work and a generous benefactor to Nashville's poor she would never step foot in hell.

The son, John, he was well on his way. Kol and his subordinates were actively working on claiming this one and Klaus would make sure that they didn't lose it. That the parents in the afterlife would be forever separated from the child didn't bother Klaus in the least. Someone had to pay for the stolen soul. It was fair punishment for the havoc and trouble the loss of Robert Jameson's soul had wrought in Klaus's life.

Not wishing to waste any more time, he walked over to the corpse. His nostrils flared at the light and delicate floral fragrance that perfumed the air. Jasmine, gardenias and lilies it was fading already. Staring down at the empty shell left of Robert Jameson, he felt not even a twinge of pity. The man deserved a painful death and from the way his feeble bones were twisted in the thin, cotton hospital gown, it had been very painful, still he died with a smile.

Whichever angel was overstepping their bounds, purifying the damned that should belong in Hell, he would make them pay. They said you couldn't kill one of God's own, but Klaus was more than willing to try. For if Mikael ever found out about the stolen souls, he would dig deeper and what he found would be enough to bring war to Hell. A war that Klaus wouldn't be able to win. Not yet.

A ray of sunshine burst through the small hospital room window, caught something with its light on the dead man's chest. A single long gold hair. It shone and sparkled, almost competing with the sun. How could one strand of hair carry so much brilliance within it? Picking it up, Klaus let it curl in the palm of his hand. It came from the angel. He knew it. Find the owner and he would have his soul stealer and his next victim.

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This story was inspired by a collaboration banana71588 and I considered writing together a long time ago.

I need to thank Christina (To be loved is to be destroyed) for making me the cover and editing the chapter.

If anyone is interested in helping me edit further chapters, send me a message here or at my tumblr. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Warning for possible self harm trigger. Rating changed to M.

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6 days earlier

Birds chirped from tree branches, water bubbled from an underground stream nearby and bushes of honeysuckle bloomed outside Elijah's cottage. Located at the edge of a small churchyard in a Swiss village, away from the usual tourist haunts, it was the perfect refuge from the ugliness of Caroline's tasks. Inhaling the fresh air, she reveled in the beauty of nature found on earth. Vastly different than the cold marble and stained glass to be found in heaven; she preferred this. Elijah must too since this is where he sought refuge when not busy with official duties.

Caroline waited at the front door, combing her fingers through her unruly curls in an attempt to neaten them before she knocked. Once more, she wished for her sister Elena's hair, it always hung perfectly straight and orderly no matter how many flights to earth and back she took. Then again, Elena didn't save the damned like she did. Wait. What was wrong with her? Somehow, within seconds, she committed both the sins of vanity and pride.

Biting her lip, she tried not to dwell on her angelic flaws for, that itself, most likely would lead to another sin. About to knock on the oak front door, she was startled when it swung open.

"Caroline." Elijah bowed slightly, greeting her in his usual courteous manner, every inch the business gentleman in his gray, fine cut Italian suit. Without his white angelic robes he could easily pass for human here on earth. "What a lovely surprise."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I can always sense when you arrive."

"You can? How?"

Elijah avoided her gaze, looking beyond her to something in the distance and she considered the idea that for the first time, he wouldn't answer her question.

"It is your presence, your inner light. It is as if the air heats up and the sun brightens when you are near," he answered at last.

"Oh." Caroline scrunched up her nose. "So, basically, I bring a mini heat wave with me every time I visit?"

He chuckled, smiling down at her. "Something like that."

Caroline returned his smile, enjoying the warm glow in his eyes.

The rumble of a car engine in the distance broke their connection and a wary look flickered across his face. ""Where are my manners? Won't you please come in?"

Elijah opened the door wider and Caroline slipped into his cottage. Glancing around the room, she drank in the soothing atmosphere, letting it soak into her. Floor to ceiling shelves overcrowded with ancient books, papyrus and stone tablets covered every inch of the walls except for the space where a large red brick fireplace stood. Like always, a fire danced and crackled in the hearth, the heat lingering over her cool skin. When visiting earth, it often seemed she could never get warm.

"Please sit down. I was just reorganizing these." Elijah rushed to move a stack of leather bound books from the chair closest to the fireplace back to an almost empty shelf. "I know how cold you get."

Caroline gave him a grateful smile, her gaze drifting to his desk while she waited for him to finish. Immaculately organized, papers and parchment were divided into neat piles and in the center sat an oversized ledger book. From the ink pen laid neatly next to it, it appeared up until she arrived he had been recording the status of various souls in his elegant script.

"If you will?" He gestured towards the now empty chair.

"Thank you." Without hesitation, she seated herself, tucking her legs under her white muslin gown. She always enjoyed these little visits surrounded by books and warmth, so different from her chambers in heaven. This was her secret respite from the hustle and bustle of heavenly activity, the disapproving bureaucracy.

"Can I get you some tea?"

"Oh yes, please," Caroline answered, almost clapping her hands in eagerness. Tea was such a treat. A human indulgence she only ever experienced with Elijah. Masking her excitement behind a cool mask of what she thought seemed sophistication she added, "If it is not too much trouble."

"Not at all." Elijah moved towards the small tea table back by his desk where he kept his tea things. "I was about to serve myself some before you arrived."

Noticing two cups and saucers sitting out instead of one, she couldn't stop her curious tongue. "You were expecting someone?"

"I rather hoped you would stop by today to report your progress and I didn't want you to return home to heaven's prying eyes exhausted or without your new assignment." Elijah cupped the side of the blue ceramic teapot with his hand and the water inside instantly steamed and bubbled. "Tell me how things went with Robert Jameson today?"

"He was almost a loss. His soul was blacker than I expected." Caroline shuddered at the memory, how his sins and misdeeds slimed her fingers when she touched his soul. "I didn't think I would find a single redemptive act."

"But, you did." Elijah poured tea from the teapot into a teacup.

"Yes…I found something buried in his childhood to work from. I was very lucky to find it. Still, it took a lot more energy than I expected to purify his soul."

"Luck had nothing to do with it." Elijah held out the cup and saucer for her to take.

Caroline accepted the tea her fingers lightly grazing his.

"It is your —" Elijah halted his speech at the slight touch. He stiffened, yanking his hand from hers as if she burnt him.

Tea sloshed over the sides of the cup to land on the saucer and Caroline held the teacup steady to keep from dropping it. The distraction allowed her to hide her hurt at Elijah's strange reaction to accidentally touching her. Her heart sank at the proof that he saw her the same way as many of the other angels, an anomaly, something unnatural and strange to be avoided.

Elijah quickened his step back to the tea table, pouring his own drink as if nothing upsetting had just happened. "Caroline, none of this would be possible without your blessed gift."

"Curse, you mean," she bit out, cringing at the bitterness in her own voice.

"No!" Elijah exclaimed loud enough, it appeared to surprise him. He took a deep breath before continuing, "You must never think that. Ever. Your light is unlike anything seen before. It is precious and must be treasured. Kept pure."

Her gaze flew to him in surprise. The force with which he spoke, it reminded her of his intense reaction whenever one of the souls he targeted was lost to Hell.

Holding his teacup precariously, Elijah sat down on the chair next to her. "The work we do, I couldn't do it without you. "

"I'm sure you would find someone else."

"No. Caroline." He regarded her somberly from over the rim of his teacup. "Without you, Hell would have claimed 23 very dark souls."

She took a small sip of tea, hoping the heat of the liquid would warm the chills that crawled her spine at the remembrance of all those sins. "I am glad to have helped, but…"

"But?"

"I don't mean to complain and I truly am honored that you chose me for this — it is only that sometimes I wish things were different. My life different."

Puckering his brow, Elijah looked at her with concern. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Forgive what I am about to say, but —."

"Please, don't ever ask forgiveness for expressing yourself. I am in no position to judge or offer absolution," he interjected with a deep sigh.

"How can you say that? You spurned the King of Hell, escaping all on your own, to become one of us. To become one of our leaders."

Elijah offered her a small smile. "Is that what they tell of me in heaven?"

"Of course." Caroline leaned forward in her chair, her enthusiasm almost causing her to drop her teacup. "Your story is one of the most inspiring things I have ever heard."

"I hope I never give you reason to think differently."

"That will never happen."

An expression she couldn't read flitted across his face before disappearing. "So tell me, what is it that you think you need forgiveness for?" He blew lightly into the cup of his still steaming tea.

Caroline sat back down in her chair, avoiding his gaze, her index finger lightly circling the rim of her teacup. "Sometimes I dream of leaving heaven. I think about what it would be like to live somewhere else."

"You are an angel. Your home is in heaven."

"But, I don't fit in. I can't play an instrument and I sing like a sick horse and when I am forced into the choir I am bored out of my mind. I don't like to study the angelic records and everything is so strict and formal I sometimes want to scream. And the other angels are so perfect and angelic and I never say or do the right thing."

Taken aback by her outburst, Elijah set his tea and saucer on his knee. "None of that matters," he gently chided. "You are different, special and you cannot expect to find fulfillment in the work others do."

"But I want to. I want to be content and perfect, like Elena."

"Give it time. You're young. Not even a century old. I know if you continue our work purifying the damned you will find peace and happiness."

"But what if I don't?" Caroline squirmed uneasily in her seat. "I hate what I do, sometimes. I shudder with horror when I see the darkness of some of these souls, their evil lives and when I erase their sins, I worry that I lose part of myself."

Elijah stood up abruptly, dumping his teacup on his desk before striding to stand in front of the fireplace.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. " Caroline said, miserable that he couldn't even bear to look at her.

"No, Caroline." He continued to stare deeply into the flames. "I want you to always be honest with me."

The fire crackled and the usual comforting sound did nothing to soothe her inner misery. She had disappointed Elijah, her one good friend besides Elena.

"We wage a Holy War." He turned to face her, his eyes aglow, lit with passion. "It is not enough to bring the innocent to heaven. We need to rescue even the darkest from the clutches of the King of Hell. Every one we save sends a message, one that cannot be ignored. We will bring them all home until Hell is brought to its knees."

"I don't know that I can purify them all."

"You will. Your blessing, your light…" Elijah walked towards her, feline grace in his movements.

Caroline swallowed, hardly breathing as he looked down at her.

"It is our greatest weapon. One that came at the most opportune time."

His fingertips drifted near her cheek in a caress that never quite touched her. "If only things could have been different," Elijah murmured, his hand dropping to his side.

"Elijah?" She hoped in speaking his name, she could break the spell that trapped her friend. Whatever she said, it brought about a different quality in him, a difference in his character she never glimpsed before.

"Caroline. Forgive me. I —."

The strange look in his eyes faded and he shook his head lightly, appearing as if awakening from a dream. Stumbling away from her towards his desk, he gulped down his tea like the act would restore calm.

"There is nothing to forgive. I'm sorry I said anything." Guilt burned a path of destruction through Caroline, nearly causing her tears to fall. Why couldn't she just be happy with the life she had, the work that he gave her?

"Don't be," Elijah said sharply. "It is my fault for putting too much pressure on you, but it is necessary if we are ever to win this war. You understand that?"

It was a reprimand, a reminder of her duty and there could be only one answer. "Of course. I am here to serve."

At her words, he relaxed slightly, "I am very pleased with your work today. You have done remarkably well. Robert Jameson was an especially wicked soul."

"Thank you," she murmured, her cheeks heating at the slight praise.

"I have another difficult case for you. It won't be easy. " He looked down at his desk, scanning his ledger, his finger moving down the page until he found what he wanted. "Alonya Markov is expected to pass soon. You can find her in Moscow."

Caroline finished the rest of her tea. "Of course. I will see to her now." Standing up she moved to place her cup and saucer on the tea table, not giving him the chance to touch her accidentally again. "Thank you for listening to me and the tea."

"Any time. When you are done, go home and get some rest. You will need it."

Holding back a sigh, her guilt piled even higher inside of her. If only she could get him to understand that for her heaven was anything but restful. "I'll do that," she replied taking a longing look at the fire in the hearth.

"Oh, and Caroline?"

"Yes?"

She waited patiently while Elijah messed with the tea pieces, neatening them, straightening them into some pattern she didn't understand until her teacup and saucer sat next to his, nearly touching.

"My door is always open to you and I am here for you. You know that, don't you?" He looked up at her intently.

"Of course I do," she replied, giving him a reassuring smile.

Elijah nodded, pleased with her answer. Stepping away from the tea table, he headed towards the door, holding it open for her. "Good. I will expect you tomorrow night then for your next assignment."

"I will be here."

The door closing behind her, Caroline stepped into the bright sunlight, wishing she could stay a little bit longer to bask in the warmth. Unfortunately, duty called and with a flicker she vanished.

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* * *

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With a soft swoosh of her wings Caroline arrived in Alyona Markov's home, a small apartment rental located on the outskirts of Moscow. In sharp contrast to Elijah's cottage, cars and buses roared by outside, a young couple shouted at each other down the hall about money and water rushed through pipes in the ceiling. The place was dim, the windows hung with thin, cotton sheets and a brown residue stained the cinder block walls and ceiling. The furnishings consisted of only a chair, table and lumpy mattress on the floor.

The place appeared empty, but Caroline could sense the dying girl, could even hear the slowing of her heartbeat. A cough broke the silence, the lump in the mattress sitting up to reveal Alyonya huddled under a rough, wool blanket. The skeletal body that housed this soul appeared no older than a few years over twenty, but it carried so much pain. Pain that normally took a lifetime to accumulate. Regret, bitterness, sadness and despair seeped from its bones, coating the air with such misery; it crawled over Caroline's skin.

Trying not to shiver, she knelt on the floor next to the dying girl. Alyona turned her head to stare at Caroline. Her hair hung limp and prematurely gray, but her eyes, overly large in her heart shaped face, carried the beauty found in a stormy sea.

"Have you come to take me away?" Alyona choked out in-between violent coughs, not even questioning the strangeness at finding an angel in her apartment.

"Yes," Caroline replied back in Russian, the girl's native tongue.

Alyona fell back unto the mattress. "My father always said there was great beauty to be found in the devil. He was right."

"Devil?"

"But, I will not fight you. I deserve to burn."

Caroline swept back Alyona's thin hair from where it stuck to her cheek. "I am not the devil or even evil. I am sent from heaven, here to keep you from a life of eternity in hell."

"It's too late."

"What do you mean?"

Alyona pointed towards the pill bottle lying next to her on the bed, the cap off.

A suicide. The girl had taken her own life. Now she understood Elijah's warning about this case being difficult. To others, this type of death meant eternal damnation. For Caroline, it meant no matter how black Alyona's soul was, she suffered. Suffered enough, her life no matter meant anything to her. Caroline ached with pity for the poor girl who knew so much pain and more than anything she wanted to keep this soul from Hell's clutches.

"I can still save you."

"Don't. I don't deserve to be saved," Alyona said roughly. With a violent, hacking gag, what was left of the contents of her stomach foamed up in her throat, running out the side of her mouth.

Picking up the corner of the wool blanket, Caroline gingerly wiped the vomit from the girl's lips. "Why do you believe this?"

"I had a son. He would have been three today if not for me."

"Only a baby." A child, when she was practically one herself. "What was his name?"

"Dimitri." Alyona's lashes fluttered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Let me give you peace, help you move on."

Another coughing fit struck the girl, bringing blood bubbling to her lips. "It hurts so bad."

"I know it hurts, dear girl," Caroline whispered, laying her hand on Alyona's chest, right over her heart. "Let me take your pain and cleanse you soul."

With gentleness, she coaxed the soul out to hover above the body of the dying girl. Blessedly, it was not in the condition of Robert Jameson's. Long smudges of black marred its brightness, leaving a gray film, but enough white shown through. Caroline read through the girl's sins, her life. There was little there, except the one act of neglect that brought about Dimitri's death. A misguided accident, it would be easy to expunge, but purifying this soul would still be difficult since it was bathed in sadness, sadness and pain that seemed reluctant to leave.

"Let go of your sorrow. Think of Dimitri, Alyona, how much you loved him. Think of him in your arms once more."

The girl whimpered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. So near death, yet unable to let go.

Light, sunshine. Alyona needed to know the wonder of this healing gift from nature on her face and limbs, not the dim darkness that seemed to encroach more with every passing second. Maybe then she would feel safe enough to move on.

Caroline rushed to the windows, yanking down the sheets tacked to the walls. Heat burst through the apartment, sending the shadows scurrying in clouds of dust. The sun, as if sensing the importance of the moment, brightened, the rays hitting Alyona.

The poor girl convulsed, once and then twice, but on her face, Caroline could see a glimmer of peace. Once more she knelt in front of her. Taking the girl's fevered hand in her own cool one, she tried to give comfort.

"It's almost over. I promise, you will know happiness again."

It didn't take long. With a sigh, the girl breathed her last.

The soul floated towards Caroline of its own free will, leaving the fading warmth of Alyona's body. It moved slowly and unsure and Caroline stretched her fingers towards it, grazing it with the smallest of touches, summoning the light from deep within herself. Brighter than the sun, the gift Caroline carried - it filled the room with a blinding glory. From the tips of her fingers it streamed into the soul, wiping away the grey and black, bathing it with light and beauty. It trembled with elation at her touch and swooped right into her hands, burrowing between her palms. Caroline closed her hands around it and whispered a gentle prayer for Alyona and Dimitri, hoping that they would meet again soon.

Caroline held her hands to her chest, keeping the soul safe and warm until she could return it to heaven where it would continue to heal, leaving behind the pain of this human world. Rising to her feet, she winced at the sudden heaviness in her own limbs, the dull throbbing in her ligaments. In purifying the soul, Caroline had taken on some of the soul's pain herself and she wondered how Alyona endured such suffering for so long.

She spread her wings, ready to return home once more, when the strangeness struck her. By now the atmosphere should be vibrating and trembling, heralding the arrival of one of Hell's own. They were never far behind her. More than that…it was silent, too quiet. No rumble of traffic or yelling from the young couple nearby and water no longer flushed through the pipes in the ceiling. Caroline's nerve endings screamed at the wrongness of things, a warning she couldn't ignore. Her heartbeat sped up, her pulse pounding in her ears and she waited in dread.

A large shadow, stepped in front of the window, blocking the sun and Caroline gasped. It loomed in front of her, a monstrosity of smoke and blackness she couldn't penetrate with her gaze. There was no blood, heart or lungs that she could see, but she knew they existed. This evil thing, it breathed, its heart beat a rhythm – it lived.

Tendrils of gray swirled towards her, threads of silk that spun a cocoon of delicate lace around her. Her eyes fluttered and she swayed on her feet. A hunger awoke in her, but she didn't know what for. She yearned for something, the forbidden touch of luxury – soft velvet and smooth satin on her skin, the sweetness of chocolate on her tongue, the joy that came from dancing in the rain. Sins. Every one of them.

Heat scorched her from the inside out, flames that licked at her flesh, threatening to devour her. Whatever was in this room, it wanted her, sought to corrupt her. All this for the soul she carried? She tightened her grip on it. The evil thing, it drifted closer, the blackness nearly touching her. Terrified, she flicked her wings, speeding from the room, from earth and straight for the safety of heaven.

* * *

Klaus smiled widely at the soft murmur followed by a spat of coughing and gagging coming from outside Alyona's apartment door. The human wasn't dead yet, the soul still intact. Since the cursed angel always managed to appear before the dying breathed their last, he left Hell immediately upon receiving Alyona Markov's name. He wouldn't wait until the very end to arrive like Finn did. He would catch the angel in the act of stealing Hell's soul and then he would see exactly how much torture the heavenly creature could take before they broke.

Slinking into a gray, hazy mist, he slipped under Alyona's door and into her apartment. Building himself back up to his full height, orange rays of sun nearly blinded him and he curled his black-feathered wings around himself. Biting back an oath, he scuttled into the shadows in the corner of the room. A movement by the mattress caught his attention and he focused his gaze, glimpsing a blur of gold and white.

The angel.

Klaus blinked, the radiant light before him morphing into a young woman. Glorious to behold, her skin pale and creamy, her eyes the blue of an early evening sky and her long hair, the spun gold from a fairytale. The familiar fragrance of lilies, gardenias and jasmine assaulted his nostrils.

It was she, his thief.

She walked towards the window with queenly grace, her white gown highlighting every curve of her lithe form. Lust ripped through him, his body tightening, hardening as she came closer to him. Never before had he been this close to something so pure, so beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt and defile the innocence that clung to her.

He moved towards her, mesmerized, wanting to caress that white skin, tangle his hands in her hair and tug her luscious mouth to his. Klaus wanted to devour her, snuff out the light she carried with every thrust he made between her legs. Forget the soul she carried, he wanted her.

She paused, stood perfectly still and lifted her head, a lamb sensing the lion. She knew he was here.

Klaus swore violently as the angel vanished into the skies, a rapid flutter of wings. Finding her again, catching her, now was as important to him as taking the souls. He would have them both. The damned where they belonged and she stuck in hell, at his mercy. The thought brought a fresh wave of heat crashing into him. For now, he would watch her. Instead of Finn, he would be there at the deathbed of each soul, until he could set a trap and drag her down to his home.

It wouldn't be long, he promised himself, until she belonged to him.

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* * *

Thanks to the fabulous klovec and To be loved is to be destroyed for the beta work. Thanks also to everyone for reviewing. It is much appreciated.


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